The Wrong Side of the Wormhole
by Marie-Iliea
Summary: What happens when Jack gets knocked through the gate - from the wrong side? (UPDATED 9/7)
1. Sacrifice

"Carter, I thought you said there was NO ONE HERE!"

"The UAV didn't pick up anything, Sir; I don't know where they came from!"

"Run now, argue LATER," Daniel shouted, grabbing Jack's arm and hauling him along. O'Neill lowered his P-90, unable to find a target and return fire. The Jaffa — given the staff weapon fire, he was assuming Jaffa — had to be invisible, and it was pissing him off.

"Niirti?" he shouted.

"Probably, Sir. We need to have them lock down the gateroom and sweep it with TER's as soon as we get through."

"Agreed." Running wasn't conducive to holding a conversation, so Jack let it drop as they dashed for the gate.

Usually the gate-run was fairly simple: get there, dial home, send the IDC, and go. Not so today; they were _behind_ the gate. Usually, that wouldn't be much of a problem either, they'd just run around — or through — the stone ring so they could enter the wormhole from the correct side.

What made this mission so complicated was that the gate faced a drop-off — almost as though someone had sent a small bomb through that took out that entire side of the hill upon which the gate stood. To get back through they had to climb up onto the platform from behind the gate, run to the other side, climb down onto the slope, and then hug the cliff face to avoid the _whoosh_ of the opening wormhole before climbing back up and going through. They'd lost the MALP down that cliff; Jack worried about losing one of his team with it.

Ahead of them the gate came to life, the effect strange without the usual _whoosh_. Jack kept running, refusing to be distracted by seeing the wormhole activate from the back side — he could think about it later. Teal'c must've reached the DHD; sure enough, a few moments later Jack heard his GDO beep and, from the corner of his eye, caught it flashing a green light.

_All clear._ Pushing himself to move faster, he caught up with Daniel as the archaeologist reached the gate platform, helping the younger man heave himself up onto the stone. _Why did they make these things so high?_ he wondered as he ducked a staff blast. Daniel spun around as soon as he'd gotten up, reaching down to help Jack. As soon as the colonel had both feet on the platform, Daniel turned and grabbed the edge of the gate, holding onto it as he worked his way around the large ring to the other side.

Then Jack saw it.

From the corner of his eye a light flashed, and time slowed as he realized that the staff blast was headed _right for Danny_. He jumped forward, placing himself between the archaeologist and the weapon — and was caught in the shoulder. The sound alerted Daniel who turned his head, still clinging to the gate, in time to see his friend fall backward into the wormhole —

— _from the wrong side._


	2. Most Unpleasant

"Jack!" Daniel screamed, releasing the gate with one hand to reach out to his friend as he fell. The staff blast had come so close that Daniel had felt the heat of it as it passed by, seen the bloody burns form on Jack's chest and the panicked look in his eyes just before the older man was knocked into the active wormhole. Another blast startled him back into movement, and he hauled himself around the gate and onto the correct side. Teal'c was there, looking around frantically. His eyes landed on Carter as she slipped around the base of the gate platform, her smaller stature having allowed her to stay on the ground instead of forcing her to climb up onto the stone.

"Where is O'Neill?" the Jaffa shouted over the continuing staff weapon fire.

"He got hit and went through from the back end!"

Teal'c's eyes widened and the brown skin of his face grayed as the blood fled from it. Something the Jaffa had said once flashed through Daniel's mind — _His death was most unpleasant._ Teal'c had been referring to someone who had intentionally tried to do what had just happened to Jack… _his death was most unpleasant, most unpleasant, unpleasant… Oh God no…_

Daniel met Teal'c's eyes and shared a look of grief and pain with the other man that lasted for only a second.

"We gotta go!" Sam shouted at them, running up the platform steps, crouched over. She knew just as well as they did what had just happened and its implications, but she was in command now and had to get the team home — and the base swept for invisible Jaffa.

Together the two men dashed after her, Daniel feeling the cold of the wormhole freezing unshed tears in his eyes.

Jack was dead.

He exited the wormhole into a room filled with shouting that only got louder as the gate closed with its familiar _shwump._ Hammond was on the intercom ordering a base-wide lockdown and sweep with TERs, and Sam was headed up to him, likely to explain what had happened to Jack.

Daniel just stood there, uncertain what to do, feeling suddenly lost.

Teal'c came to stand next to him as he watched the General's face fall and shoulders sag slightly.

"We are to report to the infirmary, DanielJackson," he said after a minute. Daniel nodded, finally walking out of the gateroom. Teal'c followed him in a silence that persisted even when Sam caught up to them.

Thankfully the infirmary wasn't far away, and the SFs had already finished sweeping it by the time they arrived. Janet approached quickly, looking them over with a critical eye before calling for warm blankets for each of them — though Teal'c probably didn't need one, the other two did. Sam's eyes were distant and red, while Daniel just stared aimlessly at nothing, his arms wrapped so tightly about his chest that they trembled. One hour, three post-mission checks, and several mugs of coffee later, the remaining members of SG-1 were in the briefing room waiting for General Hammond to finish digesting all they'd told him about the mission.

"The mission was a waste, Sir," Sam had snapped earlier, unable to restrain herself. "The Jaffa were between us and the trinium and naquadah deposits _and_ the Ancient ruins Daniel wanted to look at."

"Damn it," he muttered softly, shaking his head once. He felt responsible — hell, he _was_ responsible — for Jack's death, having decided the potential benefits to be found on the planet were worth risking sending his premier team on a mission that was risky enough without invisible Jaffa due to the precariously situated gate.

"Teal'c, you're certain there's no way the colonel survived?" he asked, grasping at straws. No one could blame him.

"I do not see how he could have, though I am surprised that his… remains… did not arrive here through the gate," he said. "When Rona'c attempted to pass through the gate from the wrong side, contact with the wormhole resulted in the disintegration of the hand with which he touched it. He then fell in, much as DanielJackson describes O'Neill did, and when we exited on the other side we found him, dead."

"What happened to him, Teal'c?" The Jaffa hesitated before answering.

"He appeared to have been severely burned, almost melted, and his hand was not found."

Daniel, Sam, Hammond, and Janet all turned white, and Teal'c bowed his head sadly, staring at his hands. The General turned to Janet.

"And the rest of SG-1 checks out, Doctor?" he asked with concern more for their minds than their bodies.

"All three returned in various states of shock, General, however I don't feel the need to keep any of them here. I do however recommend they each have at least one session with Doctor MacKenzie." She cast a side-look at Daniel, expecting him to glare at her, but he didn't react. Her eyes met Hammond's again and the General nodded slightly, acknowledging her concern.

"Thank you, Doctor. You are dismissed."

Janet left, ducking around the SF that appeared in the doorway, panting slightly.

"Sir," he said, offering Hammond a salute before entering the room fully, "We caught two Jaffa with the TERs and have confiscated their weapons and invisibility devices. We currently have them locked in separate detention cells and are awaiting further orders."

"Very well," Hammond said, standing up. He looked at the battered remains of SG-1 and made a decision. "Let's go find out what these bastards came here for," he said, wishing he could add "and make them pay for what they did to Colonel O'Neill."


	3. Diversionary Tactics

Unsurprisingly, the Jaffa weren't cooperative.

Surprisingly, they were dead.

"What the hell happened here!?" Hammond demanded of the guards.

"We don't know, Sir," one of them responded. "They had no weapons on them, and I can't find any wounds. They must have poisoned themselves somehow."

"This is not common among Jaffa; it is cowardly and without honor," Teal'c said. "We are taught that when captured we are to endure the torture of our enemies as punishment for being caught. I am sorry I did not anticipate this circumstance."

"It's not your fault, Teal'c," Hammond said. "We _all_ should've thought of this beforehand, as soon as they were captured." He turned to the guards. "Take them to the morgue, see if Frasier can figure out how they did it." The men nodded and turned to their grisly task, leaving the General with SG-1 to figure out what to do next.

"What now?" Daniel asked, looking up from his feet briefly but keeping his arms wrapped tightly around his chest in his most vulnerable self-hug.

General Hammond had just opened his mouth to reply when the base sirens went off, summoning him to the Control Room.

"What now?" he fumed, heading for the nearest elevator, SG-1 following just behind. "Shut down the gate! Close the iris!" he shouted as soon as he saw a Jaffa standing in front of the dialing gate.

"We can't sir, we've tried." Hammond stared at Lieutenant Simmons, his round face turning red.

"How the hell did he get in there?"

"Shock grenade, sir. He came out of your office—"

"—My office!"

"Yes sir."

At that moment a troop of heavily armed SFs broke into the gateroom — just in time to watch the Jaffa disappear through the wormhole in a hail of bullets.

"Was he hit?" Hammond shouted into the microphone.

"Unknown, Sir," came the reply.

"Damn." He thumbed the switch to activate the base-wide PA system. "This is Hammond; I'm ordering a full TER sweep of the base, again, TWICE this time. We missed one, and we damn well better not miss any more." He turned to Sam as she spoke up from behind him.

"Sir, I need to see your laptop."

"Why Major?"

"Sir, you're the highest-ranking officer on this base. As such, your computer is the only one that can access EVERY system we have — you could set the auto-destruct from that laptop if you had to."

The General's red face paled.

"And you think the Jaffa could've taken it?"

"Or information from it, yes," Sam replied.

"Go." Sam raced up the steps to the General's office, Daniel right behind her. Teal'c stayed back for a moment as Hammond ordered all the access codes, passwords, and other security measures on the base changed — just in case.

* * *

"Well?" The General asked a while later, looking at the unassuming black rectangle that was his computer and the frown marring Major Carter's face.

"It doesn't look good, Sir."

"How do you mean, Major? It looks fine to me." He gestured at the undamaged piece of technology.

"Well, you're right, physically it's fine," she said. She picked up a paperclip and dropped it on the device, causing a small shower of sparks to fly from the contact. "It's also booby-trapped." She frowned. "Given that I've managed to connect our computers to several different Goa'uld devices — not to mention the Stargate and DHD — I think it's safe to assume that they have a way to download the information from our computers if they chose. Either way, General, if you'd touched it, it would've killed you."

* * *

_TO BE CONTINUED._

_Short chapter, sorry about that and sorry it took so long to update. Real life and all that. _

_(As always, I don't own them, I just take them out to play.)_


	4. Dear Jack

_Dear Jack,_

_The absolute irony — which you would probably appreciate — is that when I feel this way I always go to you, but this time you're the one who's causing the feelings._

_You're the one who's gone._

_This was our first mission after the X-302 disaster — the FIRST. You don't think you could've waited a mission or two before getting yourself killed?_

_I just got you back._

_I remember when you two appeared in the ring transporter, and then just fell over. The dread that had been building inside me flowed through every vein as I went to you. Teal'c was moving; you were not, and all I could think was that maybe, just maybe, if I got that mask off of you I could get you breathing again. Hell, I'd been running over the steps of CPR in my mind since Jacob had me run back to the cargo hold!_

_For nothing._

_You lived. Your grip on my hand when you saw me was strong and sure, and stayed that way even when your hand fell to my knee. I think you only had me help you get up because you wanted the contact; you got over the anoxia so fast Janet was stunned. I think she was disappointed you didn't have to stay in the infirmary. A few days down-time, a new mission, and you died._

_Right there an arm's reach away._

_Saving my life._

_Again._

_I wasn't ready for it._

Daniel set his pen down and rubbed his eyes, reminded of the incident with the orb that pinned Jack to the gateroom wall. Daniel had stayed up all night then as well, rubbing away sleep and squeezing to stop stray tears. He wasn't much of a crier, but sometimes the moisture got too much for him, tried to escape, and he fought to keep it away.

_You shouldn't have done it, Jack. I'm 'dead again Daniel,' I always come back. I've taken a staff blast before, I would've been fine._

_You know, I think my last words to you were "Run now, argue later!" What kind of thing is that to end a relationship on? _

_Yeah, I realize that now I'm just looking for more things to feel guilty about. _

_It was meaningless, Jack. You died for absolutely no reason, and I'm not handling that well._

_Not that anyone else is either._

_They've double-checked the base with TERs twice now. I think if there was anything to find we'd have found it, but since we missed the guy who tried to kill Hammond, I'm not going to blame them for being overly cautious. _

_He's changing everything about the base that he can, codes, offices, you name it. If you ever found your office, Jack, you'd never find it now. They're relocating me tomorrow. The General refuses to move his because he doesn't want to put anyone at risk — and really, where else would he go? His office is where it is for a reason._

_Teal'c's been kel-no-reem-ing since the searches were finished; no one's seen him for hours now. Sam is personally building the General a new laptop. I think she's analyzing the old one to see how the Jaffa sabotaged it and try to prevent anyone from doing it again._

_I walked by her lab and heard her sobbing._

_I feel lost without you, Jack, and so do the others. If I'm SG-1's 'voice,' as you've called me, our 'conscience,' then you were always the glue that held us together. Our leader. I know you're not smart in the way Sam and I are; you're a tactician, a strategist, the clichéd street-smarts that balanced our book-learning. _

_You're my best friend. _

_You were._

_I think I see what you meant about how it felt to have me trapped by Nem; knowing I was dead, knowing I was alive. I know you're dead, but I still feel that you're alive. Thinking of you in the past tense is difficult, and I keep waiting for you to walk in and start messing with my artifacts._

_I'll miss you pretending to be careless with them. You're too careful, too cautious to actually damage anything. I hope you knew that I knew that. I hope you knew that me moving them or taking them from you was all part of the game._

_Our game._

_SG-1's down for a week while Hammond chooses a Second and finds us a fourth. A new leader… tough shoes to fill, Jack. I think Teal'c only stays to honor your memory._

_I think I do to._

—

TO BE CONTINUED!

(Not mine, never will be.)

**HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY my American friends!**

**Please be aware of the veterans in your area; many of them are distressed by bottle rockets and other fireworks. Be courteous of those who gave up their freedoms to preserve ours.**


	5. What Would I Say?

_Dear Jack,_

_Sam's dad came by today to check out Hammond's old laptop__. He scanned it with some Tok'ra device — turns out the Jaffa who rigged it probably downloaded all the information on it. At least Hammond wasn't logged in to anything; the only information was the stuff stored on the computer. Which was a lot, but not the self-destruct program or anything catastrophic. _

_A Tok'ra operative found out about the attack after it happened: turns out no one was supposed to get hurt — no one, not even the dead Jaffa. Your death threw off their whole operation; we weren't supposed to know anyone was on that planet, let alone came through the gate. The one who started the shooting was tortured to death. He was just a kid, Jack, a child who got startled by something and reacted. _

_Did you know that infant Goa'uld are carnivorous? The Jaffa who killed you had his symbiote removed, and was then fed to a bunch of them — still alive. Obviously Nirrti wasn't happy. The two Jaffa who were captured were a last-minute diversion so that the last one could steal as much information as possible and then report back to Nirrti about the failure. The original plan involved them sticking around, sneaking through the gate with the SG teams to give her inside intel._

_Feretti's taking over SG-1. Apparently his Second's been ready for a promotion for a while now, so he'll be taking over for Feretti. I'm glad it wasn't another Marine; Makepeace really pissed me off, and that was before we found out he was a double-crossing bastard._

_I think I'm channeling you…_

_Anyway, even though that relationship started out poorly, Lou and I get along pretty well these days. It's nothing like being with you, but I know I can trust him. I know you trusted him. _

_I miss you, Jack. It's been three days, but I still expect you to show up and drag me off for lunch or over to your place for hockey. I wonder what's going to happen to your house; Hammond said something about reading your will after the memorial service tomorrow._

_They want me to say something. I guess it's only fair, because you spoke at mine… and no matter what else, I'll always consider you my best friend. It's just that… well… Jack, what would I say?_

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED

(Not mine, never was, never will be.)

Well, stay tuned to find out what - and if - Daniel says at the service, and how SG-1 moves on with their new leader.

Liking it so far, guys? Any questions that need answering?


	6. Remembering

"Jack O'Neill was my best friend." I stared at the flag on the ramp, forgetting my place for a moment. "He came into my life at its absolute lowest point, and though I didn't realize it at the time, it was the lowest point of his life as well. Maybe that's why he opened up to me during that first mission to Abydos. All I know is that by the time he left again, we'd both found new reasons to live.

"I didn't know him well, but during that year I missed him. When he came back I was disappointed he didn't seem happier to see me. Over time, that changed. Jack became the big brother I'd never had and never knew I needed. Eventually Sam and Teal'c became part of that connection, and the rest of the SGC did too, and I realized that I'd gained something I couldn't bear to lose a third time: a family.

"Jack was my family, and being without him is horrible, but I survive it because of the strength he showed me I have inside myself. I can, and will, continue on here at the SGC because of him. Jack was a good man. He's the reason why our mandate is to find allies, not just technology, and why our (as yet unofficial) motto is that we never leave our people behind. In some ways it feels like we left Jack behind; in others, it feels like he left us behind. The feelings are valid, but it isn't true.

"A military man to the core, Jack was also a deeply passionate individual. He showed his emotions through touch and wit, and hid them under sarcasm; if you ever received a clap on the shoulder, a press of the hand, or a clever remark from Jack O'Neill then consider yourself lucky, because that's how he showed people they meant something to him, just like we're here demonstrating how much he meant to us."

They began folding the flag, and tears burned behind my eyes.

"Given all that we've seen through the Stargate, I don't know what I believe about what happens after we die anymore. What I do know is that, whatever does come next, Jack has a place of honor there. I have never known anyone as noble, honorable, loyal, gentle, or kind as Jack O'Neill. All we can do is follow the example he set for us, and hope that someday we'll be with him again."

I stepped down from the podium, letting General Hammond take my place. Sam took the now-folded flag and presented it to me; I clutched it to my chest, curling my trembling fingers into the soft fabric. I would put it in its box later and take it to Sara — I felt it was my duty to tell her about Jack's passing — but for the moment, it was mine to cherish, a last connection to my dearest friend.

"We commend Colonel O'Neill's spirit to the universe he traveled bravely," Hammond said heavily. Sam and Teal'c released a wreath through the open wormhole onto the world where Jack died, and I turned away as it disappeared, remembering the faded leaves resting at the base of the gate on Oannes after Nem let us go. The gate shut down and my teammates returned, each standing on either side of me, shoulders pressed to mine as though holding me up.

Maybe they were. I felt tilty and fuzzy — not the most linguistically complex words ever, but they fit. People filed out of the large gray room and I was guided along with them. I recognized my office after a few minutes of sitting in it, wondering when we'd left the halls behind. The room was a different shape than I was used to — oh, yes, we'd rearranged the base just a few days ago. I'd almost forgotten.

Feretti was kneeling in front of me holding a triangular box made of dark wood, topped with a shiny pane of glass that currently stood open. I blinked at it for a time, finally realizing what it was for. Releasing my death-grip on Jack's flag, I placed it tenderly in the box and closed the lid, sealing the catch reverently. Lou nodded sadly at me and placed the box in my lap.

"I want to go home," I heard myself saying.

"Okay, Daniel, want me to drive you?" I shook my head at Sam.

"No. To Abydos." I barely managed to meet her eyes, noticing the dullness of the blue irises. "I need to be with my family… my other family… right now." She nodded, her face twisted. A thought struck me.

"Come with me, Sam? Teal'c?" Lou moved away, but I reached out and rested a hand on his arm. "And you?"

"Let me ask the General, Doctor Jackson," he said, patting my hand in a very, very un-Feretti-like gesture. He stood and left, leaving space for Teal'c to come sit down where he'd been kneeling. The Jaffa folded himself into his Kel'no'reem pose and then placed one large hand on my knee, the other resting on Sam's as she sat next to me on the couch.

He began to sing.

Teal'c had a lovely deep voice, and his song, sung in his native language, was both achingly sad and infinitely soothing.

It lulled me to sleep, the flag still tucked safely in my lap.

* * *

_TO BE CONTINUED._

_EAC (Guest) — Hey, thanks for the review! I was wondering what you meant when you said "surely not it's only been three days fercryinoutloud!" Surely not what, may I ask? You'll find out more about how Sam and Teal'c — and some others — are handling things next chapter!_

_(Not mine, never will be, glad you're all enjoying it, though!)_


	7. The Flavor of Loss

_Loss has its own particular flavor of pain, a distinctiveness that goes beyond any color, odor, or taste; a texture that's unmistakable and cruel. While one might mistake the itching of a burn for the itching of an insect bite, one would never mistake the agony of loss for any other kind of hurt._

_As it is a unique pain, the treatment must match it in singularity; what cures cruel words will not cure the emptiness left behind by one who passes. It's a terrible thing, an ugly thing, and there is but one remedy — the creeping passage of time._

_But loss is a wound with many balms; the happiness of a memory, the bitter salt of many tears, the embrace of another who shares your longing for the one who has passed on. And though there is never truly healing from loss, the pain fades, and though the scars ache on occasion and a place will forever stand empty in the heart, happiness will come again, and those we have loved, we shall see once more._

—Excerpt from the Abydonian burial rites

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED

_(Okay, this was a little thingy that came to mind today while getting some stuff done, and I thought I'd share it with you while you're waiting for another chapter. Sorry there haven't been updates; I went on vacation for a week with the BF and family, then with MY family for a few more days, AAAANNNDDD, my computer died (I'm borrowing one). So I haven't been able to post, but I should have the next chapter to my beautiful beta PainInTheMikta (hopefully) tomorrow and as soon as she's given it the all-clear it'll be up for you to enjoy!)_

Not mine, wish they were…


	8. Feelings and Feathers

_Going to Abydos has always been bittersweet for us — well, not at first, or at least, not for me at first. Daniel and the Colonel have always had the hardest time of it, and I guess that's multiplied beyond imagining now. This is where they became friends…the way Feretti tells it, Daniel started doing his hero thing long before I ever met him, and the Colonel started out as a lot more of a hardass and a lot less of a smartass. _

_I noticed the tension between them on my first visit here, but the underlying familiarity and respect was obvious too. That mission went to Hell so fast…_

_The Abydonians are our first and best allies; though they offer little in the way of technology or resources (their mines don't produce all that much naquadah anymore) they are always welcoming and kind; while the Tok'ra are hiding things and the Asgard are unpredictable, the people of Abydos are always hospitable and willing to offer whatever help they can._

_If only they had more to offer us now than comfort for Daniel's wounded soul. _

Sam sighed, rubbing her forehead to try and scrub away her thoughts. The trip was proving good for Daniel, if a bit uncomfortable for the rest of the team, and the archaeologist had smiled for the first time since the Colonel had died when Skaara had run up to hug him.

The young man had then wept bitterly when Daniel explained why 'O'Neir' wasn't there as well. The tears that slipped from his blue eyes were the first real sign of grief Daniel had shown, and Sam let them soothe the worry that had been plaguing her for days.

* * *

_Getting Daniel out of the 'Gateroom was a nightmare. It was obvious to everyone but the archaeologist that the team was trying to get him somewhere private and so no one tried to stop them as they left, avoiding the words of condolence that had already been heard a hundred times before. _

_Daniel moved like a man asleep; a creature without a mind, merely responding — barely — to the impulses generated by the people surrounding him. His eyes were open but completely unfocused, and his feet moved but Sam doubted he felt the rhythm of his soles striking the floor. The only part of him that showed any life was the arms that curled around the Colonel's flag, the fingers clutching the fabric as though it was the only real thing in the world._

_Perhaps it was._

_When they finally got him settled onto his couch (after having moved a stack of books and a few boxed artifacts remaining from the base re-arrangement) she breathed a sigh of relief; they'd gotten him somewhere 'safe' — somewhere his, somewhere private, somewhere where, hopefully, he could let go and let himself start to feel._

_But he just sat there, staring. Feretti knelt before him, holding the flag case open so Daniel could put it away, and it was a full minute before the younger man even noticed the other. After the flag was safely in the box and back in Daniel's lap, he spoke._

_His words cut through Sam like a knife._

"_I need to be with my family."_

_For a moment Sam was furious with Daniel; her face twisted in shock and pain before she realized what he was saying. He needed to grieve in the way he was used to, the way he understood, the way he had when he'd lost Sha're. He didn't want to avoid her and the team; he just needed a different atmosphere, something away from the formality of the Air Force and the structure of the SGC._

_Feretti had left to talk to the General, and as Teal'c began to sing, Sam felt tears burn her eyes anew; she'd thought she'd cried herself out, but obviously not._

"_What was it about?" she asked Teal'c after he'd finished his song, keeping her voice soft so as not to wake Daniel from what she was certain was his first sleep in days._

"_It is a very old Jaffa lullaby," he replied. "It tells of a brave warrior who fell in battle, and his final thoughts of his family and friends as he dies._

"_This is a lullaby?"_

_Teal'c nodded solemnly. _

"_It teaches the young that there is no shame in death, that it comes to all. It also speaks of the warrior's honor and the place he has earned in the afterlife. It is often sung to those on their deathbeds as well, to honor and comfort them."_

"_It was beautiful."_

_Teal'c inclined his head again in a gesture of gratitude. Sam smiled back for a moment, and then scowled at herself, angered by the brief flash of happiness. She'd been so caught up in Daniel's distress that she'd forgotten the gaping hole in her own heart for a time, and now its ache returned in fury, roaring through her and bringing the tears in her eyes down her cheeks._

"_This is wrong, Teal'c," she sobbed quietly, dropping her face into her hands. The large hand on her knee squeezed firmly, offering her sympathy and understanding that she found herself not wanting to accept. "It shouldn't be like this, we shouldn't be mourning the Colonel; we should be at O'Malley's planning our next team barbecue!" her voice rose and she hiccuped, causing them both to cast a glance at Daniel, who thankfully remained sleeping. "And him, it's like he doesn't even know we're here — we're hurting too!" she shifted away from him on the couch, scowling at him. _

"_DanielJackson's grief is great, MajorCarter," Teal'c said. "He does not withhold comfort from us willfully."_

"_Maybe not, but he should realize he's not the only one who misses the Colonel."_

"_I am not certain that he can." Sam met Teal'c's sad eyes and sobbed again, feeling ashamed of her anger. _

"_I know Teal'c…it's just that…we only just lost the Colonel, and now it feels like we've lost Daniel too…"_

_When Feretti returned with permission for SG-1 to visit Abydos the next day, he found a red-eyed Sam pulling her head off of Teal'c's damp shoulder to wake up a still-sleeping Daniel._

* * *

_After ColonelFeretti's return Teal'c slipped away to his quarters, stopping only in the locker room to change out of his shirt, which was still wet from MajorCarter's tears. He had raised himself on his knees to put his arms around her, a gesture that the Tau'ri found to be comforting, though the Jaffa did not make use of it often. He was concerned that the hug would be inappropriate, but it seemed to be what MajorCarter needed, for she pressed herself to his chest and sobbed for several minutes, and looked better for it afterward._

_He understood both her anger and her pain, but knew not what to do to alleviate those feelings in her anymore than he knew how to handle them within himself. For in truth, he was furious as well; furious at O'Neill for dying, at DanielJackson for withdrawing from them all, at Nirrti and her Jaffa for their actions, even at the planet with the damaged gate._

_It was agony._

_O'Neill had become a friend, a warrior-brother, a mentor not unlike Bra'tac and yet, in ways, a child not unlike Ray'ac. It was O'Neill who had given him the strength and courage, the faith to betray his (false) god and aid the Tau'ri; it was O'Neill who fought for his freedom and the position of respect he had on this world._

_Without O'Neill, he felt as though he had no place, as though he did not belong, and he was torn between continuing the work that his friend had cared about so much, and returning home to fight for his own people. No one else trusted him or believed in him the way O'Neill had, and though the rest of SG-1 were like siblings in their own right, without their leader he felt afraid — and alone._

_Reaching his quarters he locked the door and settled into his meditation pose, foregoing the candles he usually lit and sitting in darkness. Breathing deeply, he relaxed, and instead of communing with his symbiote, he wept silently._

* * *

Teal'c was still uncertain that he understood the concept of throwing a party after a loved one's passing, but it seemed the custom spanned more than just Tau'ri cultures. The people of Abydos had gathered food, wine, musicians — and even Skaara's 'moonshine' was in abundance. They told the stories of O'Neill's heroic visits to Abydos, his fights against Ra and Apophis. They begged SG-1 to share more tales of his adventures, commemorating his life in the best way they knew how. Just over the course of the evening the retellings became more and more wild, a description of O'Neill as a giant with the mane of a lion almost making the Jaffa laugh. He would have liked to have seen O'Neill then, with long hair untouched by gray.

Sometime around dusk they brought out the scales used to weigh souls, and DanielJackson approached it to conduct the ritual. Teal'c did not believe in magic or spirits; he had seen enough to know all of it was based in either technology or the inherent traits of various aliens, and so he did not believe the scales would truly reflect the weight of a soul — and yet, he was concerned. O'Neill had shared stories with him of his past, the 'damned distasteful things' he'd done before becoming part of the SGC. A part of him worried that no amount of good deeds and nobility could ever outweigh the stains O'Neill had painted across his soul, for even if the Gods (were there any) did not find fault in him, he certainly found enough fault within himself.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the plate bearing the feather dropped as though it bore a stone.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED

_All right, judging by how much I've written and where it puts us in the grand scheme of the story, I'm going to tell you guys right now that this is shaping up to be the longest one I've written — so hold on and bear with more delays if any happen!_

_Additionally, I find Sam to be VERY hard to write – unless I'm making her technobabble. SO, if she's OOC, let me know, and please give me advice on how to improve my depiction of her._


	9. Moving On

"Doctor Jackson." Daniel looked up at Feretti, noticing the uneasy way Lou hovered in his doorway.

"Come in; what's up?"

"I wanted to talk with you before we leave for M32-498 tomorrow," the Colonel said as he pulled out a chair from its place by Daniel's desk and sat down.

"Okay, what about?" The archaeologist kept shuffling through his briefing notes, avoiding Feretti's eyes. "Need more info on the culture of the area? Looks to be mostly Celtic in nature, rather like Cimmeria in some ways, though they were Norse—"

"Doctor Jackson!"

Daniel shut up, finally meeting Lou's gaze. The officer frowned, rubbing his fingers over his forehead in frustration. "Daniel," he sighed after a moment. "Look, I know we didn't start off on a great foot; in fact I think we started out with me acting like a teenager and throwing your stuff down a sand dune."

"Lou, you've already apologized for that. I forgave you a long time ago." Daniel shifted uneasily. "What's this really about?"

Lou put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward.

"I can't replace Jack. I can't be the friend to you that he was, I know that. But I want you to know that I _am_ your friend, Daniel, even if we're not close. I want you to understand that I respect your opinions and your accomplishments, and _you._ The first time we went through that gate, I disregarded everything you said and it's one of the stupidest decisions I've ever made. I wanted to assure you that it wouldn't happen again."

Daniel pulled off his glasses, making room to squeeze the bridge of his nose. After a moment he raised red eyes to the Colonel and his voice, though steady, was a little rough.

"I never wanted to break in another colonel, Lou," he said. "And I still think Sam deserves the promotion — no offense. But if it can't be her, I'm glad that it's you. Jack trusted you, and I do also. I think he'd be proud."

Lou nodded once and then stood, shifting uncomfortably before heading to the door.

"Well, see you at O'Eight hundred tomorrow, Doctor Jackson," he said.

"Hey Lou?" Daniel called as he stepped through into the hall.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

_That was uncomfortable as Hell_, Lou thought as he headed for his office. He laughed to himself; Jack had never spent time in his office. Lou didn't even think he knew he'd had a desk. But Jack's free time had been spent with his team, and though Lou was still attached to his former team, he knew he had to rearrange his focus now.

It just didn't seem right for him to hang out with Daniel in his office, or pester Major Carter in her lab, or…he didn't even know what he might do with Teal'c. Actually…Jack used to box, play videogames, and watch movies with Teal'c — maybe he did have a member of SG-1 with whom he could bond.

_God Jack, help me out here,_ he found himself thinking. _How did you do it? How did you pull three such separate individuals into such a great team? And how do I fit myself in without crowding your memory out. _He scoffed at himself. _This is the military; I should be used to this, but somehow, even while they're training us to work well with anyone we have to and follow orders no matter if we know who's giving them…they also 'train' us to get attached, __and it sucks. _

_Not that they try, it just happens. They send us where our lives are in each others hands, and expect us to come out alive, mission accomplished. We're taught to run into danger so others don't have to, to carry our fallen out on our backs if they can't make it themselves. You can't do that if you don't care. So we care, and everyone pretends that we're military, __and__ we don't. _

_We don't leave our people behind, right Jack? Is there a way to lead this team and cart you along with us for the ride?_

Reaching his office, he settled into a chair and scrubbed his forehead again, wondering if he should hit up Dr. Frasier for some aspirin. Lou wasn't a crying man, not even in private, but at the moment he wished he was.

He missed _his_ team.

He missed Jack.

* * *

"Grandpa, can Uncle Jack come visit again sometime?"

General Hammond froze for a moment, feeling as though he'd been punched in the chest. When he was certain his heart was still beating, he looked down sadly at his granddaughter.

"Honey…Uncle Jack can't come visit anymore." He swallowed, gazing into the suddenly heartbroken eyes of the beautiful little girl before him. "He died."

"Oh." She gasped in a couple breaths, and then threw herself into her grandfather's arms, sobbing.

George had never expected Colonel O'Neill, the brash, seemingly arrogant officer who defied orders and falsified documents, to become such an integral part of his life. Jack was so much a friend to him that he'd risked his career once on his behalf, and his family saw Jack as an extension of the Hammonds with a different last name.

Feretti got his reports in early, filed things without complaint, didn't snap smart comments left and right. He was a model officer, and would make a great Second — but he didn't have that spark O'Neill had. He didn't inspire loyalty the way Jack used to, and the loss was obvious.

He'd mourned for Jack – was still mourning, actually. It wasn't proper, really; he needed to be objective, able to send men out into danger and accept the consequences. It's practically written into the job description of "General". But Jack was something different, something special, and all the rules that _should_ have applied to him often somehow simply...didn't.

Hammond swallowed his sigh, watching SG-1 head up the ramp and through the gate for its first mission without Colonel O'Neill. Colonel Feretti was more than suitable for the job; he'd keep the team safe and accomplish the mission, and in time he'd get used to the change — but for now, it just seemed wrong.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED

(Not mine, and I think at this point I can stop putting that at the end of each chapter.)

_**This is the last section of major 'remembering Jack' stuff.**_ _The next chapters will deal with the team's moving on and adapting while out on the mission. He won't be ignored or forgotten, but people will finally have something else on their minds besides just him._

_SO, I wanted to put a blanket thank-you to all my readers and reviewers. I try to answer every review personally, but I also wanted to tell you all that when I got up this morning and checked my email (this note is written the morning after I posted chapters 7-8) I saw six reviews, and they really made my morning special. I love when you guys leave your thoughts and opinions, and I really want to thank those of you who take the time to tell me what you liked, didn't like, would like to see more of, and so on. _

_I'm one of those writers that appreciates the couple-word compliments, but I really thrive on the reviews like the ones you've all been leaving. When you tell me that you'd like to see how so-and-so is handling a situation, that helps me decide what to write in the next chapter. When you tell me that so-and-so is out of character, that helps me improve. I know a lot of writers say this, but your comments really do drive and inspire me; they make me a better writer and my stories better stories. _

_SO, please keep them coming. Let me know what you really think, and especially what you want to see happen — I don't always know what's specifically going to be written, just the bare bones, and your comments really do influence the path my tales travel._

_Many bunches of thanks,_

_Marie_

_P.s. Also, Guest _Ockenfels_, thanks for the comment! I try to update as much as possible; the fact that you wait so patiently means a lot to me. You really should make an account on the site so I can reply to you in person, and you can 'follow' my stories so you know when they update! (Shameless plug for .)_

_P.p.s. Okay guys, I'm going through a pretty rough existential/emotional/spiritual crisis here — so if that delays my updates or bleeds into my writing, I'm sorry._

_Though, if the bleed-through makes for better reading…at least something good came out of it all._


	10. Murphy's Law

Going through the Gate with Feretti was almost exactly the same as they were used to — except for those tiny little differences that made everything seem somehow wrong.

SG-1 often went through in a line, shoulder-to-shoulder; the rest of the time they kinda piled on through in whatever order they happened to end up being in. Feretti made a point to send them through in pairs, with Teal'c and himself leading the two scientists. It pissed Daniel and Sam off a little, as neither of them were helpless in the least, but the mollified themselves by remembering that their new leader had sent his former team through the same way; soldiers leading, scientists behind.

It was tactical.

It wasn't Jack.

Feretti was also highly against splitting up. Sometimes this wasn't a problem, but enough of the time found Sam's part of the mission far enough away from Daniel's that staying together cut their productiveness in half. After a few of these missions they convinced him that SG-1 was a team that had to be able to split and still operate, something Feretti hadn't been used to before.

When they did start splitting up, Feretti was pretty unpredictable with pairings. While Jack had almost unilaterally gone off with Daniel, Feretti often stayed by Sam, sometimes even helping her out with whatever she was doing. Though he obviously didn't understand the majority of what she did, he was significantly less inclined to shut her up than their former leader.

Sam actually missed O'Neill's raised finger and varying forms of the sound 'ack!'

Lou, for his part, felt like the freshmen tag-along in a senior-class clique. The team was never rude or insubordinate, but he still felt half out of step with them. Carter always gave him a sideways glance when he asked her a question, and Daniel seemed unsettled by the fact that Lou wasn't constantly interrupting him during translations. He'd been specifically trying to be cooperative and understanding with both of them, because they'd both contributed massively to saving Earth and the SGC several times. Though his military mind couldn't quite wrap around how they worked, he knew from experience that they should be allowed to do what they did, because they did it well.

Teal'c took his orders without hesitation, always solemn and attentive, but reserved in a way that Lou couldn't get around. The Jaffa often had quiet conversations with Daniel and shared the occasional almost-too-small-to-notice smile with Carter, though he didn't say much in general. With them, his silence seemed natural; with Lou it seemed oppressive and forced.

But SG-1 was the best of the best in the SGC and probably the world. Its members were professionals _and_ good people, a combination that led to their continued success in the field. They weren't the finely-tuned, well-oiled machine they had been, but they were still the best, and slowly getting better.

Thus, no one was surprised when the team ended up with the most dreaded kind of mission: rescue the Tok'ra operative. Around the SGC it was considered almost a sick game that they played with the Tok'ra — they give us bad information, we go save their butts. Though they almost always succeeded, it was understood that a job done for the Tok'ra would involve misinformation and missing information, just as it would end in almost-disaster.

It was something that had pissed everyone off, though O'Neill had certainly been the most vocal about it.

A trait Daniel seemed to be channeling.

"With your dad being one of these guys, Sam, you'd think they'd at least warn us about stuff like this!" Daniel peaked around the corner he'd taken shelter behind, yanking his head back just in time to miss a staff blast.

Sam shot him a look that clearly said she agreed with him, but didn't appreciate him mentioning it.

The compound wherein the operative was being held supposedly had very few guards. They'd been skeptical about that information, but had chosen to accept the mission anyway, and were starting to regret it. The team had gotten into the compound fairly easily, but the Tok'ra was heavily guarded by at least ten Jaffa.

"A little overkill," Feretti had remarked as they attacked. The exchange of fire lasted for several minutes, finally ending when Teal'c hit a panel of some sort on the wall. The resulting minor explosion took out the few Jaffa still standing and caused the door they'd been guarding to open.

Weapons trained on the opening SG-1 approached the room cautiously. Someone was sitting on the floor within, and the person shifted slightly, lifting his head.

"Hi Sam, long time no see."

"Dad!" She ducked past Feretti to kneel by her father, checking him over quickly for injuries.

"I'm okay, Selmac's been handling everything — they didn't seem inclined to do much to me, I was a little surprised. Still glad you turned up though; what are you doing here?"

"The Tok'ra asked us to come rescue you, though they didn't tell us it was YOU we were rescuing," Sam said as she helped Jacob to his feet and used her knife to free his hands.

"That doesn't make any sense; I was undercover on a different planet when I got nabbed — no one should've noticed me being missing until my next check in, and there's another month before then at least." They looked around at each other.

"So the message we got wasn't from a Tok'ra," Daniel said. No one had a chance to reply, however, as a metal ball rolled into the room, coming to a stop against his foot.

Feretti and Jacob both swore as the room erupted into blinding, unconsciousness-inducing white light.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED:

_N. Ockenfels: I hope you eventually recover your password; are there options for doing that on this site? And how do you always know when I've updated?_

_The crisis will resolve when it resolves, unfortunately, but your concern is a balm to my weary heart. Thank you._


	11. Pushing Back the Dark

_Drifting._

It's not his favorite sensation, but then; what is?

What is drifting? What is sensation? What is favorite?

Perhaps he should know, but he does not.

Maybe he's dead. Is he dead?

What's dead?

He's starting to realize that he doesn't belong here. (Where is here?) There are so many things in his head that just don't fit with this place; (what's a head? A fron. What's a fron, then?)

He tries to figure out the last thing he remembers. (What's it mean to remember?)

Dying? He's not sure what dying is, but it seems to fit somehow, though he's not sure with what. He doesn't understand what _wanting_ is, but he hadn't wanted to die.

_When someone's given up their life to save yours, it becomes that much harder to throw yours away._

He doesn't know where that came from, what it is, or why it seems familiar, only that it does. It's connected to someone…what's a connection?

_Daniel._ He shivers (what's a shiver?) at the name (and what's a name?). Daniel is important. Daniel matters. Daniel has a name.

_Do I have a name?_ The thought (and what exactly are thoughts?) strikes him like lightning, and the impact is so intense he doesn't stop to wonder what lightning, impact, and intensity are.

_I._

_Ego._

_Me, Myself, and._

_Jack._

Some things, some tiny-yet-huge (though he doesn't understand what that means) things, are becoming clear, cementing themselves in the muddled chaos that is his mind.

_Daniel died for me. I died for him. I don't think this is death, and if I'm alive, I'm not just giving up._

He's still not sure he understands what most of those word-thoughts mean, but the more he focuses on them the more there are rushing around, and the more important they seem.

He's finally starting to remember the meanings behind all the words he's been thinking when he senses something.

Which is strange, because he has no form, no substance, far as he can tell, with which to sense anything.

It's there, though, a presence, and something about it just feels _wrong_, like it's at odds with him in some way. The presence was heavy, clanking, metallic and angry — and suddenly all Jack wanted to do was hide. Not having a physical body, he imagined making himself small and hard to see, quieting the rush of thoughts and definitions, _muting_ the noise.

The presence drifted through his space, and he could almost hear/feel its thoughts as it flailed. Jack waited, and after a while it began to recede as though caught in a current, but he remained hidden — if he could still sense the thing, it could probably sense him, and he didn't want to find out of that presence could fight the current where Jack could not.

And then another one arrived.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED:

_NOTE: Guys, I'm sorry I can't update constantly. Some of you need to understand that I (and every other writer on this site) **have a real life**. Before you leave comments or send me messages saying that my delays in updating are 'unacceptable,' please take into account the fact that I have two jobs, a myriad of at-home responsibilities, at least 3 doctors appointments a month, vicious nightmares and resulting sleep-deprivation, a grandmother with a terminal illness, and A LOT of other stuff going on in my life. Fanfiction is my escapist reality — it's my balm and helps maintain what sanity I still have. In the end, much as I adore your enjoyment of my stories, I'm not truly writing for all of you. I write for me as cathartic exercise — and I can't write nearly as much as I'd like to. One update a week is prolific for me. There weren't any updates this past week or more because I had my best friend over. I haven't seen her in months, I won't get to see her again for months, and she's moving several states away soon._

_This isn't my job. I don't get paid for this. I can't dedicate all my time to it or make it my main priority. I'm an adult with goals and responsibilities; the choice tends to come down to something along the lines of 'write another chapter or go make dinner for 6 other people.' Those 6 gotta eat, and so do I._

_I write (when I can) because I can and because I love it — but when people start getting angry at me for not updating fast enough, it stunts my ability to keep writing. I can only pull this off when I can really pour my heart into it, and if I were to update daily it would involve really poor chapters and nobody would want to read it. I know you're interested in the ending, I know, but I'm BEGGING you all to hang in there with me and for me. It's not fair of me to ask, because I hate waiting for new segments/sequels/books/etc. just as much as the next reader — but this is really the absolute best I've got right now._

_Just had to get that out there, I'm sorry if I offended anyone or if I sound like I'm whining._

_— Marie_

_P.s. N. Ockenfels, Really sorry this took so long, and I hope you're still checking for updates! By the way, there should be a "I forgot my password" thing on the log in page…_


	12. Waking Up

Sam groaned as she came to, rubbing her head as she waited for her vision to slowly return. She really hated Jaffa-grenades.

"Sound off," she called out as she heard similar groans in the darkness around her.

"Feretti; isn't that _my_ job, Major?" the Colonel said.

"Sorry, Sir, didn't know if you were here, let alone conscious."

"Nah, don't worry. Everybody else; Daniel, Teal'c?"

"Here," Daniel said, his voice accompanied by a soft patting as he felt around for his glasses — not that he needed them just yet, but he'd rather they not get crushed. Finding them (thankfully intact), he slid them on his face, noticing the barest hint of light starting to grow before his eyes.

"I am present as well," Teal'c added.

"Anybody hurt?" A chorus of 'no's' led Feretti to give an inaudible sigh of relief that quickly turned into a groan when Carter suddenly realized something.

"Wait, where's my dad?" Everyone felt around themselves, 'looking' for the Tok'ra, but as their sight returned it became obvious he wasn't there. Sam tamped down on her worry, concentrating on the situation at hand.

The room in which they were confined was rather small, with barely enough room for them all to have been sprawled out on the floor unconscious without lying atop each other. The walls and floor were stone, though the door was made of metal.

"Probably trinium," Sam said after examining it. "Without my tools I can't be sure, though."

"Understood, Carter," Feretti said. "All right, here's what we're going to do. I doubt whoever caught us is planning to just let us rot here, which means at some point they'll open that door. Teal'c, I want you waiting to grab whoever does. We're going for restrain-and-interrogate, not kill; we need to know more about where we are and who nabbed us. Carter, Jackson; I want you two against that wall where they won't see you when the door opens." Instructions given, Lou planted himself not far in front of the door, waiting to distract whoever came in long enough for Teal'c to subdue them.

Unfortunately, they had quite the wait.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED:**

_Sorry this is so short, and un-beta-ed. I wanted to get you guys SOMETHING. Here's what's going on: the current stresses in my life right now have conspired and kidnapped my muse. I'm utterly stumped as to where to go from this bit._

_SO. If you love me (or just the story, or just feel nice) help me out. Tell me what you thing would happen next, what you want to happen next, what you don't want to happen next. Help me brainstorm. Who comes into the room? Does SG1 successfully capture them? Where's Jacob? Help me figure it out, PLEASE. _

_Also, if you read my Trek fiction you've probably seen my latest in the drabble collection Candid Shots: Ch. 4 Red. If you haven't seen it, check it out (it really only requires basic knowledge of the new movies) to get an idea of my mind-state right now. Even if you're not a Trek fan or familiar with it, the underlying theme is there. Should be a good, easy way to see what I'm trying to battle right now._

_I love you guys, and if it weren't for you, I'd've given up on this a LOOOOOONG time ago. Help me out one more time?_

_Marie._


End file.
